As I acknowledged in last year’s Boxing Day post, the day after Christmas has nothing to do with pugilism.
Nonetheless, this morning I woke up feeling like I’d done twelve rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime.
Obviously I hadn’t done twelve rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime.
For that to have happened either I or ‘young Mike Tyson’ would’ve had to have had access to a time machine and either I travelled to then or he to now and then we’d have had to have had a boxing match, in which I would’ve needed to last longer than many a top professional boxer of that era ever managed.
There are so many reasons that that couldn’t have happened. Indeed, if I’m brutally honest, I did not wake up feeling like I’d done twelve rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime and the fact that I woke up at all is proof enough of that.
No, the allusion to Mike Tyson was a metaphor and a dated one at that. Mostly because I wanted to crowbar something about boxing into this post and, even though he hasn’t really been a top level boxer for a very long time, it’s pretty hard to think of a ‘household’ name from the current era that’s as evocative as Mike Tyson.
It matters not.
All I’m trying to say is I woke up this morning feeling a bit rubbish.
That’s a good thing because it means I overindulged yesterday and I do enjoy a bit of overindulgence.
Indeed, all said and done, I had a pretty good Christmas Day. I ate lots, I drank lots, I watched lots of telly and I got given lots of presents. Yesterday it was good being me.
I also got to spend the whole day with the woman that I love.
That should probably have topped the list really.
Because the woman that I love can be quite scary sometimes and, for the sake of my continued wellbeing, I should definitely make it clear that I prefer spending time with her to gorging on food.
I mean we do see each other every day but it was particularly nice that we got to spend some quality time together yesterday. Incidentally, for me ‘quality time’ and ‘shameful overindulgence’ essentially mean the same thing. Fortunately, Mrs Proclaims is of a similar opinion.
What I like about Boxing Day though, is that we get to do it all over again.
Except today I don’t even have to do any of that cooking malarkey that I did spend quite a bit of yesterday doing.
Boxing Day is all about the leftovers.
And there are loads of leftovers because I deliberately bought and cooked too much in the first place.
And some of the Christmas presents we got are edible too, and the good kind of edible that means they taste good and are bad for my health.
Not that Mrs Proclaims and I were entirely irresponsible in our excesses. I noted, for example, that we had at least eight of our ‘five-a-day’ yesterday which is better than most days when I’d honestly say three is my upper limit.
And also we went on a really long walk so that basically means that the second helping of Christmas pudding was a freebie.
Today my concession to health was to turn most of the remaining veg into a soup. Last year I made a soup mostly out of the remaining sprouts and potatoes. To be fair, it was edible, but it was not the loveliest soup I’ve ever made.
Today I still went with sprouts and potatoes but I also threw in some parsnips, leeks and a cauliflower. The resulting concoction is a definite improvement on last year, which is just as well because, assuming that Mrs Proclaims and I have a bowl every day, there’s enough to last until Friday.
It’s a good job that we both quite like soup.
Not all soups obviously.
I’ve blogged about the complexity of soup before.
But when the flavours are right, it’s a perfectly acceptable form of nutrition.
Other than making soup, today I’ve been making good use of some of my presents. I watched one of my new DVDs (Suicide Squad if you’re interested – I liked it but I can see it wouldn’t be everyone’s ‘cup of tea’), I showered using my new Star Wars Shower Gel (so now I smell pleasant and the Force is strong with me) and consumed a small fortune in chocolate coins.
Sadly, I was unable to wear my new Christmas underpants, because I wore those yesterday and I think one of the secrets to a successful marriage is to change your underwear daily.
As a minimum really.